Sometimes I snap
by CRAZYREADER23
Summary: How much do we know about Canada? Sure, he's the quiet man in the corner...but had anyone ever question why he was so quiet? Was it because he was just shy? Or was it because he wanted to remain off everyone's radar. And what would happen if he couldn't control the way he acted for once? He couldn't control himself in front of him..
1. Remember

Sometimes the world seemed so cold and unresponsive. As if no one really cared. Whatever you chose to do wasn't going to even cross their minds.  
As if you meant nothing to them…  
As if you were completely invisible…  
Other times you could tell that everyone in the room had their eyes hook on every move you made, everything you said, and listened for the beat of your heart, wondering if you were calm or nervous. Watching you…  
Waiting for you to slip up and make the mistakes you told yourself you wouldn't. Promised yourself to would never admit to anyone. Not yourself…and especially not him.  
Not that it really mattered. His father would give little care in the matter, most likely giving his son a heartwarming hug as he told him that he was proud. The only person that could truly see him would be proud to call him his son, despite the fact that no one knew who he was. That person might even know already…somehow he always did.  
The problem for Matthew wasn't anything that the average person in his position had difficulties with. His problem was with two people that had nothing to do with how he felt or how he acted. However…those two people had affected someone he tended to distance himself from. And there was a reason for that. A reason that he had always remained silent about, it being the main reason he held a constant smile, never wanting to draw attention.  
He didn't want to snap.  
Those two people who ruined that quietness he had worked so hard to maintain... The smiles, the soft voice, the clothing that hid his real strength, his own animal friend suffering amnesia and Matthew not doing anything to get him the help he needs, just to keep an anonymous profile even after he spoke his name. To keep from any extra attention away from coming his way. And they, that Russian maniac and the heavily endowed Ukraine, destroyed all of his patients in one argument. Matthew didn't even think before acting, realizing only afterwards that _he _was watching…and completely silent, watching without a single annoying comment about how weak he was. Because he wouldn't say that this time.  
This time he was everything besides weak…  
This time he wasn't careful.  
When Matthew thought back to that day, and could remember everything perfectly clear. For that was the day everything went completely silent…the day people noticed when he skipped the meetings. Ever since that day, others started to keep their distance, unable to a walk past the door without walking into the thick wall of tension that was caused by the quiet, weak, _innocent_ country. At one point, Matthew stopped trying. He was done with being looked at…with that look…  
At first he told himself it would go away. Fade just like his name would whenever he told it to someone, and they would forget seconds later. However, it just kept happening. All of them would watch him as if he would lash out. Everyone besides Francis, of course, who kept trying to casually lighten the mood and move the eyes of everyone off his son. It only worked on those who hadn't attended the meeting that day, there for not being directly impacted. To everyone else, however. Canada's name was now permanently carved into their memories, and, with England, Poland, Switzerland and France (who wanted one because he thought it was just a growing trend that he wanted first go at it), some peace treaties. Soon he gave up going back. He was an outcast, and now he's an outcast that stands out far from the others. Matthew could no longer sit on the sidelines and watch without being a distraction to the players.  
Why did he have to be such an idiot and act off the pure hot blooded feeling of instinct? Only meat-headed morons did things like he had done. And it wasn't until this very moment that Matthew had realized that these were things that _he _did. For once he wouldn't mind being mistaken for him.  
_"He hasn't been to the meetings since…" _Matthew though back to that day, for the hundredth time that day, and though of all the looks he had earned from what he had done.  
_"Why did I do it?...how could I have screwed everything up?!" _ He asked himself suddenly, creating a hole in the garage door leading into to his mountain house. The thick wood splintered and cracked, light shine around his forearm that suck out from the door, reminding him that he had left the house lights on after he left not even on hour ago. He was on his way to the meeting…only making it half way before turning back, not wanting them to look at him like that ever again. Matthew gingerly caressed his right elbow with his left hand as he helped himself pull his hand gently out of the door. Pricks tingled down his arm as he felt little splinters jab under his skin, forcing his jaw to tense. As calmly as he had managed, he twisted the golden door-nob and pulled himself in the safety of his home. Toeing off his boots, Matthew moved two rooms down and flopped himself down on the leather 'L' shaped couch that warped the room and aimed his directly at his flat screen. Forgetting about what had happened about a minuet ago, he swirled his wrist around, wincing as he remembered the tiny spikes of hair-like wood pieces that were not enweaved again. He began to pick at them, again thinking about what had happened only a month ago.  
Everything…he remembered every detail…


	2. The look he gave me

As most people know, in current events, Russia and Ukraine have broken out in war…something that had caused all the world meetings to be slightly uncomfortable, especially since Ukraine has been attending all of them due to the fact that she has been wanting to prove to Russia that she can fight for herself. Canada has been doing as he normally did, not wanting to speak out of place or draw attention to himself. The last thing Matthew needed was Russia to talk to him about joining his side in war and let everyone know why it was Canada he went to.  
Within all honestly, he wished Ukraine kept her big mouth shut and let him be…  
She didn't know what had happened, so she couldn't have possible understood.  
It was a day he knew he should have stayed home, and every second he regrets that he hadn't.  
Canada was sitting at the very end of the table, like he usually did, trying to stay away from the talkative crowd.  
"Hello, friend." He felt someone's breath on the back of his neck and the presence of a hand grip the back of his chair  
"Russia." He voiced quietly, hoping that someone as power as Russia wasn't spotted conversing with such an innocent country, such as Canada.  
"Long time, no see. Don't you think it's time for a chat?" Russia whispered darkly, the hand holding the chair suddenly tightened.  
"Actually, I don't think it has been long enough." Canada snapped lightly back, not looking up from his lap.  
"Well," Russia pulled the chair out from the table and sat down, "I think it is." He spoke through his teeth, smiling at anyone who looked in that direction when the heard the sound of the chair scrapping against the floor. Canada signed, knowing that this was something he was constantly pulled into. In return for Russia keeping Canada's secret, Canada lent him weapons and advice whenever Russia found himself in a war that he hadn't know how to wiggle out of.  
For the past century or maybe even two, Russia hadn't needed help. However, this was the first time he was battling his blood. Whenever Russia needed advice, and had to keep their conversation secret, he would act as though he hadn't seen Canada before taking a seat and the two could talk quietly.  
This had been a bit excessive in Russia's mind, but, it had won him many battles, so it wasn't his position to judge.  
And besides, if the other countries had known that there had been one person that Russia feared, he wouldn't be as powerful as he was today.  
Unfortunately, Ukraine had never been let in on this little arrangement, her head imminently snapping over to Russia with a scowl forming in her face.  
"Russia!" She hissed, finding something else to yell at Russia for just to make it as responsible as he always appeared to be. As if nothing had been wrong, Russia looked up with his usual smile.  
"Yes, sister?" he greeted, masking the annoyance that he truly felt. Ukraine dramatically rose from her seat and stomped over to Russia, grabbing his arm with grip that dug her nails into his flesh, and pull him up, revealing the scared looking Canada that still sat there. Before Ukraine could open her mouth, Russia calmly spoke in the same happy tone he used all the time.  
"Oh," He scratched the back of his head with mock shyness, "I didn't see you there, friend."  
Everyone in the counsel room froze in their seats, knowing Ukraine was about to do something moronic. Such as picking a fight with Russia. Ukraine took her hand off Russia and moved her arms to cross over her chest.  
"I never would have guessed how inconsiderate my brother was. Sitting on someone just because they may not be as big and strong as them." She spat, forcing Canada, France, and Russia (in his head) to wince.  
"Ukraine, go sit back down." Russia smiled, acting as though she hadn't yet spoken. This comment brought her face to a bright flush, and anger to pulse through her veins.  
"Do not treat me as if I'm a child! You can't continue to walk over everyone as if you are king…you need to think of others for a chance. Remember that we all live on the same earth…" She squeaked, trying to keep her stance firm and voice from sounding like a whining child. At the last words she had spoken Canada's turned his head up, suddenly growing intrigued with the conversation.  
"Russia, you do not control all of us! Why is it that you think that you can just point your missiles at everyone who looks at you the wrong way? We could easily have made so many different discoveries if we weren't so busy buying guns and tanks." She added, gaining more of Canada's attention. Russia glanced down, noticing his allies growing interest, suddenly becoming worried.  
"I had already told you," Russia reached forward, his facial expression turning crazed with the smile still intact, and grabbed Ukraine's arms forcefully. A fearful gasp instinctively left her lips, terror growing at the back of everyone's mind.  
"Go back to your seat." He whispered lowly.  
No body moved…  
Nobody besides the last person anyone had expected  
"Enough fighting!" Canada suddenly boomed standing from his seat, letting the gun he always hid in his coat make it to his hand that held it against Russia's head, Canada's body began to worm between the brother and sister. Russia suddenly lost his painfully tight grip on his sister, taking a step away from the gun. During Canada's surprise outburst, his coat completely slipped off, exposing his muscles that no one had ever noticed until now.  
No one dared spoke once they had heard the safety being clicked off.  
"This is not the time to be going after your own blood. We have far more problems in the world." It was only Matthew's voice that echoed around the room.  
"Leave for now. Back off…" He took his gaze, not the gun, off of Russia to glance back at Ukraine, gaining the assurance that she was listening, not realizing that _everyone_ had already given his their full attention the second he got Russia to back off.  
_Once the realized that Russia was scared_  
"Both of you." He finished, keeping the gun aimed towards Russia until he, as well as Ukraine, had completely exited the conference room.  
After lowering the gun, he looked around, and saw that everyone, besides his father, was watching him with a mix of fear and awe. One person hadn't given him any praise what so ever….  
America watched him cautiously as he backed up towards the door.  
Giving him a look that was completely filled with fear….  
Mixed with trances of heartbroken betrayal….


	3. Her

His reasons for standing up and defending Ukraine were purely off this rational thinking and desire for the equality among the countries. Canada never wanted to reveal his true strength to the others…he never though he would have to.

As light broke through gaps in his bedroom curtains, the country began to stir, groaning in displeasure at being brought back to consciousness. The sweet bitter aroma of a fresh French roast filled his nostrils as he began sitting up.

"Mattie, do you still like yours with maple syrup instead of sugar?" France appeared in the open doorway of Canada's room, a dishtowel slung over his shoulder and his long curly blond hair tied back in a loose bun that look as though it was about to unravel. A rough pounding filled his head as he tried to sit up, forcing the instinct to burrow back in his covers to overpower him. In a few short seconds France was at his side, holding an iced rag, helping his son adjust to the light.

"You must get hangovers from Britain…" France chuckled lightly, holding the rag to Canada's face. Canada's body relaxed at cold feeling, slumping against his father's comforting embrace. He knew he drank too much, and he also knew that he shouldn't have. He hadn't know what else to do. All Canada was sure on was that he had been grateful that France had decided to stop by, catching his son before he ran out the door to do something he would regret once he was sober. As France dabbed the cloth on Canada's face, he watched his son's face scrunch in agony.

"Hey…" He pulled Canada into his arms, letting the apple-musky scent of his body drive Canada to remember his life as a new country. Despite the horrid pounding in his head, Canada sat up and held on to his father, wishing that familiar scent would turn back time…make it all go away before anything bad had ever happened.

Ever since that damn incident he's drank himself to sleep every night…not that he was addicted. If fact, Canada hated hard alcohol. The only thing he drank was champagne, fine wines and the occasional aged whiskey and that was only when France came to visit, or during a celebration. Okay, he will fully admit to downing a logger or two while he drew up strategies…but not to Russia, of whom the strategies were for…

The only reason he gargled tequila and gin every night was to forget. And for someone with the sharpest memory and ability to read a person by the way the dressed, this was not an easy task. So, turning to bitter beers with a nauseatingly high alcohol content appeared to be his last resort.

"You have nothing to be sad about…it will all be okay." France continued to whisper soft gentle words, pulling pent up tears that had been pushed down for far too long to flood. Canada sobbed onto his father's shoulder until he no longer felt bothered by his hangover. France held Canada even after the small hiccupped sobs were over, waiting in comfortable silence until his son had let everything out. Canada moved back, releasing his father and pulled himself to the edge of his bed.

"I think I could use the coffee now." He said quietly, standing up and stretching out his back. France smiled sweetly, hopping up and skipping over to Canada's kitchen.

When Canada emerged from his room he was greeted by a table of pancakes and sausage (both made with a good dose of maple syrup) and a cup of coffee. A smile spread over his face as he took a seat, and grabbed the fork that had been placed next to his plate and imminently starting stuffing his face.

"Thanks, dad." He managed between bites, earning a humored grin from France.

"I'm glad to see you smiling. Unfortunately, as soon as you start, I'm afraid that I must now see that wonderful smile fade with the favor that I regret that I must ask." France grimly spoke up once Canada was done eating, now reaching for his coffee.

"If it's forming an alliance with America, it will never happen." Canada snapped quietly, bitterness flowing gracefully from his vocal cords, using a deeper voice than he usually had.

The child's voice he'd used so often had started to fade. Canada real voice sounded strong, yet not deeper than France's. Unlike his father, Canada's voice didn't always have a floaty grace to it. There was always something…cold and intimidating to it. The icy beauty that past his lips as he sung the power anthem of his country right before he began a hockey match.

Hockey was the only place he let himself go…not having to worry about anyone catching on to the ruse. Even when he whopped America…Russia, even…no one had suspected a thing.

"Even though I know that forming…'bonds' with America is all that's been on you mind for the past few weeks," France paused to chuckle at the blush that lightly dusted over Canada face as he tried to keep his facial expression calm and he drank his coffee, "but that isn't what I was going to ask you."

Canada turned, any blush that had formed now long forgotten, as faced France with a sudden seriousness that no one had seen flash behind the innocence in his purple eyes. Without giving his son much time to answer, France began to voice his request.

"I came over last night because of an urgent manner that had taken most of France out of my control-"

"Russia's invading you." Canada cut France's words off with a low growl. Though his words didn't hold as much surprise as they had appeared flabbergasted, Canada's jaw tightened. France nodded solemnly, voice cracking a once faintly as he tried to explain his situation without seeming helpless.

"I ask to stay here. Britain might join if things get too far out of hand…"

"What makes you think you'll be safe here?" Canada snapped roughly, already knowing the answer…

He feared him just much as he feared _her_…

_"__Never has it been brute strength or intimidation. It is how you use your resources." _

_Her _voice has long since been in his mind. Now everything that had been taught to him has fallen though, and, in his own mind, he had committed an act of betrayal.

"Because the second he, or Belarus, step foot on to the northern American territory, you, along with all the allies you've created will attack him. He's walking on thin ice here…this place is too risky."

Canada didn't hesitate to mull this over.

"Yes, France you know you are always allowed over here. You don't have to ask." At his words, France shifted awkwardly.

"I don't want to act like I'm so important in your life. I've only been around for the last ten years. I wouldn't want to intrude on the life you has established for yourself-"

"Stop." Canada hissed over his fathers words, "It was either you stayed with me and let your country die, or go back and watch me from afar like I know you have been. Stop acting guilty about something you had no control over…please…." Canada looked up at France, watching a grin etch up on his face.

"What is it?" He asked, imminently assuming he has something on his face and blushed with embarrassment.  
"Nothing," France pulled his son into a calming hug, "You just reminded me of someone I knew."


	4. Breaking down and endless questioning

"We can't keep doing this." Canada slammed the door to the dinning room open and burst through, earning the gaze of both.

"And, what is it that we can do?" France asked, taking a pencil that had been held in his lips as he looked over maps of Russian territory.

"War. I can't…this isn't right. Fight doesn't solve anything! All it does is bring depression and disaster." He clenched his fists and jaw making the strength in his arms bulge.

"Well," Britain pulled a bottle of water out from the fridge for all three countries before returning to stand besides France to examine the ocean space along Russian coasts, "It doesn't appear that we have much of a chance. Russia's pride is on the line. If he agrees to back down, he loosen the sense of fear he has in everyone…" He paused and handed everyone a bottle.

"Everyone besides you. With you being the only threat, it seems evident that he won't stop until his only threat is eliminated." He added, taking the pencil away from France and drawing the angles at which his ships could attack.

"I'm not the only threat! All of this is just a ploy to distract us." Canada snapped at Britain, forcing him to suddenly look stare at Canada.

"Russia has no fear of anyone else, Canada. We've learned this the hard was…believe me. Now, France, I need your troops to-"

"Bullshit." Canada hissed at Britain, catching the saddening eyes of France, before turning around and storming out from the room. Upon open up the front door, he came face to face with a pair of soft blue eyes, forcing him to freeze.

America…

Who held his fist up as if about to knock, his Canada imminently flushed a lightened pink tint.

"America…what a surprise," Canada stared, not using his high girl voice to talk, not seeming to notice the color change in America's face upon hearing his voice, "What are you doing here?"

After the question, America tilted his head to the side.

"Britain didn't think it was safe alone at my own house, and said I would be better protected here…is that why you're here as well?" He asked causally.

He looked at Canada with the same joking light hearted gaze he always had…however, all Canada could see was the betrayal he had been the last time he had seen America.

"This is my house." Canada grumbled his low yawn, still not fully wake from the naps he's been taking between training sessions.

America stiffened at the new information.

"America's here." Canada shouted behind him, then paused as if contemplating something.

"You're staying here for longer than just today, I assume." He finally asked, his arm still blocking America's entrance as he held the door and leaned on the opposite side if the door way.

"Hey, man, if you're not cool with me staying here than I-" America began to stumble of his words, before Canada sharply interjected his own words.

"And get invaded by a crazy Russian asshole who is only getting to you to get to me? Yeah, get in the house, you'll be staying here." He reached forward and grabbed America's shoulder, moving aside as he pull him in.

"And since I'm short a room, you can stay in mine. Tell Britain and France I don't know when I'll be home." Canada turned back toward the open front door. America grabbed the back of Canada shirt, but didn't turn him nor move him from leaving.

"They'll want to know where you're going." His jaw clenched with a mix of fear and desperation to know, using France and Britain to get the answer he personally wanted.

"To fix something. Polarzone shit you won't understand." Canada snapped, a sudden rage filling him as he remember what he's forcing himself to do, taking a step out the door.

"You don't need to act like a bitch about it. Like this entire thing is on your shoulders. I'm a part of the Polarzone, too, remember. And I'm a part of this war. Probably would be dead by now if you weren't getting so much held from your daddies, who are working to clean up your mess. Stop acting so high and goddamn mighty." America growled in return, taking a step back when Canada turning. Taking a single step inside his house and using only one hand to lift America by his collar.

"In _her_ eyes you're still Russian territory. You don't understand what it's like to be born to the cold lonely ice, left alone to face that Russian. America…you have no idea what it's like to truly suffer. Burning silence at despair…keeping dangerous secrets…" Canada shoved America to the ground, turning once again to talking out the door.

"Oh, and by the way, America," Canada called behind him, in a dangerously low voice, gaining the speechless attention of America,

"Britain, the man you've claimed to be my father….wasn't the one who gave France aid in my creation."

Then the door was slammed, leaving America on the floor, staring at the door with widening eyes.

_"__Either an alliance or war creates a country…and Canada was founded close to the same time period as he was so I just assumed…"_

What happen to France as he was pushed to do northern by Britain?

What happened to him?

Who had be met?

Thinking back to the war that had granted him complete freedom, he realized that France didn't cause as much of a ruckus as he had before Canada creation.

He did, however act more perverted and ditzy….

What had made the tense air between France in Russia whenever they were assigned to sit even a single seat closer to one another?

As America though more on the topic, he realized that he never remembers Canada being formed…he was just there.

However, that through was quickly conquered by a memory of what Canada had said towards the very beginning of their conversation…

_"__Why,"_ America thought, _"would Russia hurting me…get to him?"_


	5. Polarzone

"Norway!?" Canada called, pounding his fist against Denmark's estates door. He was in there…

All of them where.

"What part of our link don't you people understand?! I know that you're in there.

"YEAH?! WELL SO DOES RUSSIA!" Denmark yelled back, sounding as though he was directly on the other side of the door.

"Quite." Murmured Finland, loud enough so that Canada away still able to hear the countries on the other side.

"He can hear us, you know…" Norway groaned, his voice sounded farther away. Right before Canada was driven to the point of kicking down the door Sweden opened the door with Denmark and Finland clinging to his waste in intimation.

"Sweden." Canada nodded in respect, waiting for the huge block of person to willing let him pass. With a nod in return, along with a slight grunt, he moved aside to let Canada in to the house.

"I hate to cut out any uncomfortable small talk, however, I have an urgent matter to discuss with all of you." He took a seat at a rather large gothic style table that resembled the one in conference room. Denmark took his seat at the very opposite end of Canada.

"Just because of the newfound power you have smacked Russia across the face with, you cannot and will not take over any of our land for the purpose of war." He hissed, fisted tighten just to express his anger with Canada being in the same room.

"The Polarzone isn't battle ground, this is something I know. And _using _any of you for the sake of battle would be breaking my agreement. One of my reasons for making a trip here was to ensure that you were to, even if I was on my bloodied last breath, stay as far away as possible from this. Don't help, don't pity me and decide this was all of our fight. Together. I made a promise to keep Russia in his place, and I intend on following through." Canada kept his voice and a steady pace, to ensure that he wasn't insulting anyone or challenging then either.

He wasn't America, he didn't pick fights or flaunt any knowledge or success he would gain.

For the longest time he had been a neutral aspect, and now he was using that same data he had recovered all those years to know ever countries weakness.

And so had Russia.

"A promise…who could have possible asked to do that?" Norway, looking actually intrigued on what was going on, seemed bewildered that anyone thought Canada, before revealing his strength, could even match Russia.

"Artic." Canada smiled at the memory of her, as all the other Polar countries seem to tense.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I know who that it." Denmark's voice wavered, eyes glassing over with something not very few countries could say that they've seen.

Norway sighed, gaining eye contact from Canada.

"He's been searching…he still can't find her." He spoke regrettably, as if he had been helping him search.

"DAMMIT!" Denmark slammed his fist against the table, standing abruptly.

"IF THAT RUSSIAN HURTS HER, I'LL-" His own words were muffled by a tear that slid down his face.

"You can't do anything about it…none of you can…" Canada watched his lap, wanting to ask help.

_"__Canada…when in trouble with something you have caused yourself, I need you to promise me that you won't ask the help of any country in the Polarzone…anyone else is fine to ask. You, in retrospect, are the farthest away from Russia. And if you pick a fight he won't just attack you, he would work his way towards you. He will want you to watch your kindred fall so you don't have enough emotional strength to stand…" She looked at him with the utmost seriousness, her lavender eyes locked on his._

_"__What if Russia isn't they one I'm fighting?" _

When he looked back, Canada would wince upon how idiotic that question probably had seemed to her.

"Sweden…didn't you try to find her too?" Finland asked, gaining a nod from Sweden.

"It'd no doubt that we've all looked for her. Could you blame us?" Finland added sadly, unable to look anywhere either than the tabletop.

"Russia was…well…still is a maniac. She saved us all from a life under his slavery." Denmark spoke lowly, pulling his ax out from its holding spot on his back and placed it on the table so he was able to lean back. Canada studied the ax, for the first time realizing that, on so faintly, the light barely noticeable swirling marks on the metal, and partly down the ax's shaft.

The swirled markings, when looking close enough, resemble snow patterns.

Canada's eyes shot up to Norway, eyeing his upside down cross clip suspiciously.

On it…the same pattern…

As does the lower rim of Sweden's glassed.

And the pattern of Finland's Santa hat…

If you had been anyone else…if you hadn't know Artic, and knew what her symbol/pattern was.

He knew because he had the pattern at the base of his glasses as well.

"When was the last time any of you have seen her?" Canada asked to break the saddened silence.

Denmark was the first to speak.

"It…it's been a long time…"

The ice burnt his bare feet as he ran aimlessly in hope that the pain would stop. Hot tears ran down his face as the mix of adrenaline and fear caused his stomach to churn. The Russian was chasing him…he just knew it. His land was too close to his territory, and would most likely going to be conquered.

_"__Denmark…."_ The snow around his ears sung, catching him off guard so that would fall to the icy incased ground. His small body was almost completely dusted in snow in a smaller of seconds before he was able to regain enough strength to sit up. The Russian was no longer there…as if he's either gotten lost or had given up. Looking around him, Denmark felt the snow abruptly halt about him, and everywhere within an 8 foot radius of him, allowing him to think that he was trapped in a column, guarded by harsh winds and snows blocking his sight into the storm around him.

"Denmark." He heard a voice from inside the storm. Unlike the Russian's voice, this one sounded calm and reassuring. However, not wanting to take a chance, Denmark had remained silent.

"You don't have anything to fear, young one." The gentle voice cooed, a dark shape of a person shaded in front of where the young boy sat in the freezing puddle of water that had not even five minuets' ago been a rough mixture of snow and ice.

"I'm am only hear to greet you into the polar zone." A woman with long white hair that curled down, nearly reaching her thighs, and a white gown that was simple, thin and flowed against the ground. The woman knelt, not seeming to care if her hair was now tangled in the ice below.

"It is lovely to meet you." She extended her hand and nodded her head in a slight bow. With a moments hesitation, Denmark took her hand.

He had to restrain himself from gasping, feeling her smooth icy hand against his warmed flesh forced tingled down his spine. As her moved her hand back, he look this opportunity to study her for a brief second. The pure smooth white skin wrapped her entire body, letting the fierce purple of her eyes stand out along with the light pink tint of her lips. The only warm thing he could guess about her was her smile. It made him feel…safe.

"Why are you fearful?" She asked breaking the silence, he never meant to create. Denmark thought of telling a lie, yet something about her brought his truth out.

"Russia…he doesn't trust how close I am and-" His eyes widened, "Did I run in to your territory?" He asked with the high squeak of his young voice.

"No," A smile formed on her face as she lightly shook her head, "I came to see how you were handling with weather. The cold can be a bit excessive here, if you hadn't already noticed."

Denmark nodded shyly, unsure on how to respond.

"What did the Russian do?" The woman's words came out sharp and rough, forcing Denmark to wince back.

"He'll take me away…I know he will…he was chasing me. He told me he just wanted to talk. But that not what it eyes said…they looked so…crazed." Denmark sniffed, running into the woman's arms when she opened them.

"He won't get to you…I'll make sure he won't ever…" She spoke so quietly it seemed like it was only to herself.

"How would you…" Denmark faded off when the woman stood, looking in the direction behind him.

"Denmark. Stay here." She stated, and she lifted her hands and brought them together to make it seem as though she was holding something.

Closing her eyes, the woman blew out gently, frosty air swirled from her lips and curled to her hands as she opened them. The snowy wind began to swirl faster, beginning to shine a blinding light, causing Denmark to close his eyes.

"And keep yourself safe."

He reopened his eyes when she read her voice, gaze falling on a strong, sharp ax.

It was slightly bigger than he could use, but it was enough to protect him.

"I hope to see you again." And at that she began to walk away.  
"Wait!" He called before she walked through the wall of storm, "who…"

"Artic…" She smiled at him before walking through it to the storm.

Right at she was out of sight, the glowing winds he had seen create the weapon he now held swirled around him, covering his near frost bitten body with a smaller version of the outfit he wore in current times.

_"__Promise me you'll keep you…and your kindred safe. However, never fight the Russian…leave him to me." _He heard echo through the wind before it fully left.

…

"That was last time. As I was growing into an adult the weapon would grow along with me, the clothes too." Denmark faded, hugging himself wishing he could have a chance to thank Artic.

"That's longer than any of us." Norway reached up and touched his clip.

…

He sat by himself and waited. The Russian watched his new country…he knew he did. Waiting for an opening to take Norway. Waiting for any small slip up.

"That won't happen. He wouldn't dare." A voice came from the side of him, blankly and with lack of shock, he looked over. A woman, her face looked cold, yet warming. Being wrapped in a pure white cloak, it was difficult to read her features. Long white hair pooled in the hood as she lowered it, the only thing keeping her thick wild hair from taking over her face was a small upside down cross clip.

It wasn't extremely fancy…it did, however draw his attention.

"Make up you're not too obvious with your emotion. Throwing your expressions around doesn't help you, only your enemy. If he knows what makes you tick, he knows who to kill you." She smiled, reaching down to place a frosty kiss on his forehead. Norway's eyes widened, body strengthening. His eyes found her's. They looked old…unlike her body, which looked young. Her purple eyes looked intense, wise and cold. It was only when she smiled you could tell she held warmth with in her soul.

Norway could see pain in her eyes as well…she had seem a lot in her years (centuries) of life.

Things any normal person would break down and end their life if they had seen.

"Promise me you'll stay safe. The threat will be conquered…all you need to do is stay safe and keep to yourself." Her voice was a mere whisper and her head reached towards her hair, unclipping the clip, letting her hair fall in her face.

"It was lovely meeting you, Norway. Unfortunately, I must leave…business to handle, and all." She reached over and clipped the cross in Norway's hair.

The feeling of the Russian watching him imminently left.

_"__Who are you?" _He thought too himself, too shy to ask and she began to walk away. He watched his lap to think about who she could possibly be.

_"__Artic." _A sparkling gust of snowy wind swirled around his face, the clip prevented his hair from flying in his eyes, leaving the voice that wasn't his own to speak in his head. His gaze shot up.

The woman, who held the title Artic, was gone

…

Norway rubbed the clip again, wishing he would understand why he had given it to him.

"What I don't understand," Finland spoke up in a confused tone, "is why you say she was mysterious and told you to stay away from Russia."

"She didn't?" Norway placed his hands back in his lap, is attention directed to Finland.

"No, she told me the exact opposite…"

…

Finland was sobbing, unable to understand why everyone around him was so scary and intimidating. Those who were around didn't seem as though they wanted his friendship. All they wanted was to throw each other under the bus. Avoiding the Russian. Finland was a fragile person, unable to handle the fact that no one around him wanted to make cookies, or watch chick flicks, or even knit with him. They were all so…quiet.

"They'll come around." He heard woman say as a tall figure wearing a white cloak knelt down to his height. He looked up at her calm smiling face, shaded by her white cloaks hood.

"People in this world should be happier…I know I'm a stranger, but would you do me a favor and spread happiness to those around you…remind them that we all need to remember that the world isn't a constant war. That the world should be happy." After she spoke she glanced around quickly, pulling out a hat from under her cloak. The hat had a poofy white rip and a soft dark red body that flopped to the side and stretched all the way down to his shoulder, tipped with a ball of white fluff.

"T-thank you?" He stuttered with nervousness as she pulled it over his head.

The hat was a little bigger than is head was, so the second she placed it on his head, the hat slipped over his head.

When he lifted it she was gone.

"Where did she go?" He asked aloud, "I never even got a chance to get her name." The snow at his feet swirled up and around him.

_"__Artic…" _A whisper spoke in his ear as the glowing wind dried the tears that were still in his eyes.

…

After Finland was done explaining, there was silence.

"That is something she would do…" Canada sighed, finally understanding that plan Artic has been building. Finland though for a moment, then turned to Sweden.

He was quite from a long while before he spoke.

"I don't remember." He said quietly.

Denmark appeared to have winced.

"Really? Nothing?" He asked, sorrow appearing in his eyes.

With his usual expression he nodded.

The atmosphere had suddenly grown awkward leaving all the Polarzone countries to sit in silence.

"Its getting dark," Canada watching the twilight blizzard thrash outside the window, "I should get going."

"Canada, it kind of is dark." Finland corrected, watching the purple tint become dominated by the darkness.

"Then I really should hit the road." Canada stood and began to walk toward the door.

"What did you use to get here?" Norway asked, not bothering to look up from the tea cup that Sweden had brought him a moment ago.

"I walked." _Lie_ he ran, but that information wasn't necessary to hand out.

"Then you should stay here, man. We have plenty of extra rooms." Denmark, who now held some sort of alcohol, said with a look of slight concern.

"And if the storm lasts all the way through tomorrow?" Canada challenged.

He could handle cold far better than anyone ever knew…

Even better than Russia…

"Than I'll drive you." Sweden spoke up, thrusting hot tea into Canada hands.

"You guys staying too?" Denmark asked with a pleasant surprise.

Finland happily nodded, continuing conversation with Norway (who lived with Denmark due to the reason of his none stop worrying about him getting attacked by Russia).

"Do you need to make a call? Let anyone know you'll be staying?" Denmark, who now moved to throwing darts with Sweden, questioned his face already light pink from the liquor.

Canada thought of France, Britain and America staying at his estate.

"No." He stated after only a seconds thought.

"Great!" Denmark cheered, "Now get your ass over here! Let me see how good -ball-biter's aim is!"


End file.
